Monster's Offspring
by ClosetFMAfan
Summary: If there was one thing Hohenheim hated more than anything else in all of his years of existence, it was the sound of Trisha Elric screaming. He couldn't stand the fact that it was his fault. But there was nothing he could do. Trisha/Hohenheim.


**I really really love Trisha/Hoho. They are adorable. I have a thing for absolutely loving less-loved pairings. But while AlMei gets little love compared the bigger pairings, Trisha and Hoho get none. Even thought they are quite officially canon. Like, the only more canon pairing than Trisha/Hoho is Meas/Gracia.**

* * *

All that Hohenheim could think of was that it was his fault.

It was _all_ his fault.

It was his fault that Trisha was in pain. It was his fault that she was in there screaming, and being stronger than he ever could be. It was his fault that he was completely useless. It was his fault… it was all his fault.

She screamed once again and he jerked, searching for something to do, anything to keep his mind off the fact that she was suffering in there because of him—he had known that this was trouble, that he shouldn't have done it. He should have said no, should have left before he was convinced he couldn't live without those sweet eyes. Now they were crinkled in pain because of him, he should have left her alone, let her life her life like a normal human—

_This is what normal humans do, Hohenheim,_ one of the voices that never left remarked wryly. Darian. The smart aleck. _Where do you think they come from?_

_She'd end up in the same amount of pain no matter what you had done. Maybe even worse and sooner if you had allowed her to, as you say, live a normal life,_ Irina said, always the calm mothering type.

_And what do you know about a normal life anyways,_ Darian said again.

_Oh do shut up,_ someone else replied testily.

The screaming stopped. Hohenheim snapped upright, staring at the door. Oh no, what did that mean? Did it… no, she couldn't have… then the sound of crying drifted through the door.

Pinako pushed it open, blood on her hands and apron.

"Pinako…"

"Well come on in you idiot."

He couldn't move. His feet wouldn't move. Surely… that couldn't…

"Hurry up."

"Van?" She sounded so exhausted. But that was her voice. His sweet angle's voice.

"Trisha?"

"Van… come here and meet our baby."

His feet now couldn't see to move fast enough. He hurried into the room. Urey was wiping blood off some of the tools on a small table they had set up. Sara hadn't been able to come, too caught up with her own pregnancy, but her husband had still come to help out his childhood best friend with her first birth.

Then there was Trisha. She looked exhausted. Her hair was limp and hanging in strands around her face and she was slightly paler than her normal coloring. Her eyes though were bright. Wet, but brighter than he had ever seen them except perhaps on their wedding day.

"Come here," she said softly, gesturing for him to come and see the soft little bundle in her arms. He approached carefully, not sure exactly how he was supposed to be reacting. He felt terrified. This was… this was his child.

"Is it… is it a girl or a boy?"

Trisha smiled and traced the baby's face with a finger. "It's a boy. Little Edward."

"That's a good name," Pinako said with a nod. "Good and strong."

"It had to be a strong name," Trisha said, glancing up, still smiling. "If he's going to be just like his Daddy, he's got to have a strong name."

Urey humphed slightly and hefted his bag of tool over one shoulder, before leaving the room. Trisha watched him leave with slightly sad eyes.

"Tell him thank you for me, will you please Mrs. Rockbell."

"Of course, Trisha," Pinako said kindly. "Keep this old rascal in line, alright? Now you've got two of them to keep an eye on."

"I'll do my best," she said with a smile as Pinako grabbed the bag of dirty linins and marched out of the room. Edward had stopped crying, but Hohenheim was still staring at the spot where Urey had stood.

"I'm sorry about Urey," she said when he continued to stand there and stare. "He's… he still doesn't like you I guess."

"'If he's going to be just like his Daddy'… Trisha… how can you hope that for our son?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said if he's going to be just like his daddy, Trisha—"

All of a sudden she got what he was getting at and she sighed heavily.

"Van, I don't want to hear it. Not today. I meant I want him to be just like the man I love most. Strong and brave, kind and caring and wise. How many times do I have to remind you that that's who you are. I've never met this monster you talk about."

"I make sure you never see it," he responded, fists curled.

"Van." Her voice turned sharp and he, shocked, turned around to look at her. "For once. Just his one moment. For me. Forget about being a monster. Look at our son." He didn't. "Van, look at him." Hohenheim tore his eyes away from his wife's face and stared at the child. His skin was red and slightly wrinkly, and his gold eyebrows were already pressed downward in a grumpy frown. His eyes were gold, just like Hohenheim's. He must be the first child born in four hundred years to be born with that eye color. There was a single antenna of gold hair on his head. He couldn't help a small smile from breaking across his face.

"Is he a monster?"

"What?"

"Is he a monster, Van?"

"Of course not!" he protested. "Of course not… he's… he's perfect."

"Exactly Van. He's _your_ son. Yours. Monsters don't create beauty. They don't create innocence. So please. For this one moment… just be happy. For me if nothing else."

"Trisha…"

He made the mistake of staring into her wonderful kind grey eyes and hung his head slightly. "Alright... Alright Trisha." She smiled softly at him, and he felt his heart melt a little in his chest. "May I sit with you?" Watching carefully, she nodded, and scooted over so that he could sit with her on their bed. He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned into his chest, patting Edward in a soothing rhythm.

After a moment's pause, he said what was on his mind. "I… I always wanted a family. Ever since I was a slave. Slaves weren't allowed to have an actual family. I mean… my parents were slaves. But my mother was forced to give me up by the time I was old enough to clean and I never knew my father. Citizens though. They had families. They could get married. It was perhaps the one thing I looked forward to the most when I was freed and became an apprentice to my master."

"Did you… did you have a family in Xerxes?"

"No. I didn't. There was… there was a woman I was pursuing, but we weren't engaged. I don't know what happened to her, so I assume she was absorbed by Dwarf in the Flask, Homunculus." Usually when he said the name, the souls inside him would rile in hate and bitterness. For the first time… since he had gotten them, they didn't at his name. He was grateful.

"So I'm your first?" she asked slyly. He blushed slightly. For a hundreds of years old alchemist, he could be surprisingly shy and easily embarrassed.

"Yes. I always used to imagine it, how it would be. The family part, I mean" he said quickly, blushing even deeper. "Having a wonderful wife. Children." He brushed some of her limp hair away from her neck. "I never thought that it would be like this." Trisha opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. "That it would be this… wonderful. No matter what you may think, Trisha, this is the happiest I've ever been in my entire life. Being here with you. Knowing that I am going to have a son. That I… I _have_ a son. I never thought that I could ever be this happy.

"I never thought I would love someone as much as I love you."

"Van…"

He pushed her hair back from her face and cupped the back of her head with his hand. Trisha met her husband with her lips, running her fingers through his beard. He pulled away first, pulling her close with one arm and reaching out to Edward with the other.

"I'll take him, will I? So you can get some sleep."

"You don't have to—"

"You're exhausted Trisha. Go to sleep."

With obvious reluctance, she handed her husband their baby and pulled the blankets up over her body.

"Goodnight, Trisha."

"Goodnight, dear."

* * *

**As for Urey's disdain for Hohenheim, it goes back to my headcanon for these guys. In my headcanon, after Hohenheim figures out that he loves Trisha, he tries to run away to "protect her", and inadvertently ends up breaking her heart and ruining her life... Urey never forgives Hohenheim for that. Especially not after he leaves again. **

**I am planning on writing that one day. My headcanon for their relationship. I already have a title and a summary!**


End file.
